Clichéd Christmas
by DNAisUnique
Summary: It’s Christmas in Las Vegas, and everything clichéd that can happen does.
1. Chapter 1

4:11 pm, December 25:

As Catherine drifted into the world of consciousness, she cracked open her eyes and squinted at the unusual brightness in the room. She then became aware of the cool air in the room and snuggled further into the blankets, desperately wanting a little more sleep. Her eyes closed again, she rolled onto her right side, and slid her palm-to-palm hands between her cheek and the pillow. As something on her hand scratched her face, she tensed, and her eyes shot open. Something was on her finger that wasn't there yesterday. A ring. Hmm.

VVVVV

2:23 am, December 25:

"Big plans for Christmas?" Catherine asked Gil as she handed him a mug of coffee. They hadn't received any new cases yet--it seemed as though even the criminals were taking a break for the holiday, thankfully--so they sat in his office catching up on the backlog of paperwork. Again. In the wee hours of Christmas Day. Again.

"Not unless you know where I can find a special woman to spend the day with," he smirked over the rim of his mug.

They'd been flirting and dancing around each other for twenty years, even more so in recent weeks.

"I might know of one," Catherine grinned as she took off her glasses and slowly twirled them between her thumb and forefinger. "She's a pistol, though. Don't know if you can handle her." Her eyes danced as the corners of her mouth turned upward.

"I'll handle her just fine. I love a challenge."

Their banter was interrupted by a commotion in the hall. Catherine tossed her glasses on the open case file on the desk, and they both jumped from their chairs, practically running to see what was going on.

The sight--and sound--was something to behold. David Hodges was being helped through the halls of the crime lab by Greg and Nick. And he was singing horribly off-key.

"Man, I told you Grissom and Catherine would be here," Nick said to Greg when he saw their supervisors.

"Greg?" Grissom asked.

"Sorry about the Not-So-American Idol, but I can totally explain," Greg replied hastily. He paused a beat, Grissom and Catherine continuing to stare. He shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny, losing his grip on Hodges' arm, the plastered lab rat pitching forward violently, Nick's vice-grip grasp on his other arm the only thing keeping him standing. "You know how almost everyone is working tonight? Well, we decided to have a little party, but somebody spiked the punch."

"And that explains Hodges'…rendition of 'Santa Baby?'" Catherine questioned, biting back a smile as Hodges sang even more obnoxiously.

"Sort of," Nick replied. "Bobby D. bet Wendy fifty bucks that she wouldn't sing to Hodges."

"And kiss him, too…Hodges," Greg added.

"Was Wendy drunk, too?" Catherine asked.

"Only slightly," Nick told them. "She was well aware of what she was doing, though. Said something about it being the easiest money she'd ever make," he grinned. "I think she's got a little crush on my man, here," he said, patting Hodges on the chest with is free hand.

"So, let me get this straight," Catherine said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Wendy got fifty dollars to sing to and kiss Hodges, but he's the one who's three sheets to the wind?"

"Yep, and now his favorite song is 'Santa Baby,'" Nick finished. "Though I gotta admit that Wendy was pretty good."

"I'll say," Greg added.

"Too bad he won't even remember this later," Catherine chuckled, unable to maintain the stern demeanor any longer.

"We got pictures," Greg snickered as he turned to Nick. "Hey, do you think Archie got that on video? We could put it on YouTube."

"I love YouTube," Hodges slurred, taking a break from his song.

"I don't know. Let's get him situated, then we'll find out," Nick replied.

Grissom, who had said only one word during the conversation,--Greg's name, actually--spoke up. "Two things: you know I don't usually condone behavior like this in the lab or while on the clock." He paused, letting the uncomfortable silence of guilt settle over the three younger men, staring at them over the rim of his glasses, one eyebrow raised. "And the second thing," he began sternly before eventually breaking into a smile, "why weren't Catherine and I invited?"

Nick and Greg shared a glance, hoping that the other would have a reasonable excuse. Neither one did.

Hodges took the silence to mean that everyone had stopped what they were doing so they could listen to his self-proclaimed vocal abilities. He sang at the top of his lungs, slurring most of the words and adding in a few punctuating hiccups. Truth be told, it was worse than before. Vocal _inabilities _was more like it.

Grissom chucked and shook his head. "Get him out of here," he said to Nick and Greg.

They hurried past their supervisors--pulling Hodges along with them--not waiting for Grissom to change his mind.

Catherine glanced at Gil and smiled.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm really impressed with what you just did."

"Well, it is Christmas," he smirked. "Besides, we're getting in on that party."

**VVVVV**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I've made some changes to chapter 1, hopefully adding some more substance to it. This is cross-posted at the GraveShift, this being day 1 of the Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge 2009. Enjoy!**

**VVVVV**

"You want to crash the party? Really?" Catherine questioned, eyes bugging slightly, mildly surprised. "I've never known you to party. You're all, 'I'd rather be alone and miserable than spend time with anyone.'"

"Consider it an early New Year's resolution," he grinned, ushering her back into his office. "Though I'm not alone if you're with me, Cath, which you are most of the time."

"Still, it's not like we're partying."

"So it's a different kind of party," he shrugged.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Fine," she sighed lightly, studying him.

"What?" he asked.

"Can you honestly tell me you're not the least bit upset that while we've been working our asses off doing paperwork, the rest of the lab's been goofing off and getting schnockered?"

"Isn't that what the parents do, Cath, work their asses off?" he asked, rounding his desk and pushing the papers into a more orderly pile. He turned off the lamp and glanced up at her. "You know that's how they think of us--the parents. And they're the rambunctious kids who are always trying to slip things past us, even though they know deep inside we're going to find out anyway."

"Well, apparently, we didn't do a good job raising the Three Stooges out there," she told him, referring to Nick, Greg, and Hodges. "Wonder where they're taking Hodges?"

He shrugged. "My guess is that 'Santa Boozy' needed a break from all the holiday cheer."

Catherine laughed and shook her head. "That was really lame, Gil. Even for you."

"Oh, come on! That was one of my best one-liners."

"If by 'best,' you mean 'worst,' you're exactly right," she joked.

"You're just jealous because you didn't think of it," he smirked and joined her again.

After an exaggerated eye roll, she linked her arm through his and flashed a grin up at him. "You ready to crash this party?"

"After you, dear," he replied, his tone light.

As they left Gil's office in search of the party, Catherine couldn't help but wonder what had gotten into him. All she knew was that she liked it. A lot. And in that moment, as the 'parents' strolled down the hall arm-in-arm, she realized she was happier than she'd been in a very long time.

VVVVV

Gil and Catherine stopped in their tracks as they entered one of the lab's giant processing rooms, surprised at how quickly--and apparently easily--it could be transformed from a place of work into a place of play. They gazed around, amazed by the sheer number of decorations. How _everyone_ had managed to sneak the whole shebang past _both_ of them, they would never know. Music blared from giant portable speakers, and many of their coworkers--inebriated, of course--flailed about in the corner of the room designated as the 'dance floor.'

Wendy and Mandy passed in front of them, arms linked, undoubtedly the only thing keeping each other upright.

"Whoa," Wendy slurred, noticing Gil and Catherine. "You're not s'pposed to be here. Thought you were celebratin' on your own!"

Mandy--forgetting her arm was connected with Wendy's--tried to elbow Wendy, but only succeeded in making both of them wobble even more. "Weren't s'pposed to tell 'em," Mandy said, holding her hand against the side of her mouth and nose in a whispering gesture, though it was the hand opposite from Gil and Catherine, allowing them to hear every word she said. And she was practically yelling anyway.

"Oops!" Wendy exclaimed as they looked at each other then burst into a fit of giggles before staggering away. "Hey! Where's Hodgie? Didn't getta finish my song!"

Gil and Catherine glanced at each other, eyebrows raised, matching amused smirks on their faces. Just how long had this party been going on?

"Well, let's get crashing!" Gil exclaimed, pulling her in the direction of the bar he'd spotted a few moments before. "Looks like we've got some catching up to do."

**VVVVV**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the feedback, and I will reply to reviews (hopefully soon). And now, on with chapter 3! Enjoy!**

**VVVVV**

"What's with the makeshift bar?" Grissom asked as they approached Henry, who had taken on the role of 'bartender.'

He stared at them with a deer-in-the-headlights look. All color drained from his face as he stumbled over his words. "I…you…uh…why…" Beads of sweat broke out on his upper lip, and he was sure he was mere seconds from passing out. The room began to spin as his vision field diminished.

"Henry?!" Catherine exclaimed, sensing something was wrong with him. "Stay with us, Henry!" she demanded, quickly making her way around the folding table that currently served as the bar. Grabbing his face between her hands, she spoke to him in a stern voice. "Focus on my voice. Look at me, Henry!"

Somehow, her voice broke through to him, and his eyes searched her features, slowly drawing them into focus. "Catherine?" he asked weakly. The thump-thump of the pop Christmas song registered then, and he broke into a brand new wave of nervous sweats.

"Relax, Henry!" Catherine insisted, still holding his face in her hands.

"But how…"

"Hodges," Grissom and Catherine said in unison.

"Oh," Henry muttered, pulling away from Catherine. "Are you mad?" he asked, looking more like a guilty young boy rather than a competent lab technician.

"Only that we weren't invited," Grissom told him over the music.

"Yeah, about that…" Henry began vaguely, a nervous laugh following shortly.

"What?" Catherine spoke.

The laugh quickly died on Henry's lips. "I don't think I should say."

"It's okay, we won't be mad," Catherine told him sweetly.

Possibly embarrassed by what he was preparing to say, he bent his head and muttered something that neither Grissom nor Catherine could understand. The loud music didn't do much to help, either.

"Slow down and tell us again," Grissom pressed.

Henry's eyes slipped shut as he took a deep breath. "Everyone thought you'd rather make merry by yourselves."

Catherine pulled her lips between her teeth, biting back a grin. She could feel Grissom's eyes on her back, but she couldn't look at him. Not yet.

"But no one even bothered to ask us if we'd like to join in on the festivities," Grissom said. "Would it have hurt to ask?"

"N-no, I guess not," Henry mumbled. "My apologies, sir."

Then, before the moment could get even more tense for Henry, Grissom let out a hearty chuckle and moved to clap him on the shoulder. "Really, we're not mad."

"Yeah, we're just glad we got here when we did," Catherine added. "Now where's the stuff Hodges was in?" she finished, scanning the various bottles on the table.

Henry swept his hand over the bottles, utterly relieved that he was no longer the center of attention. "Take your pick. I think he had a little of everything. Though he started with the punch, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yeah," Grissom nodded. "Greg mentioned something about punch. Who sprang for all of this?" he gestured at the table.

"Well, it was sort of a BYO and a little more to share," Henry said, scratching behind his ear absentmindedly.

Catherine looked around the room then back at Henry. "So there's actually twice as much liquor as what's here?" she asked.

"Yeah," Henry nodded. "Who knew the Las Vegas Crime Lab employed nothing but drunks?" he joked.

"But you're not drunk," Catherine pointed out.

"I'm the designated driver tonight. Merry Christmas to me," Henry finished sarcastically.

"How'd you get stuck with that detail?"

"I wasn't there when they voted."

"Ouch!" Catherine exclaimed, biting back another grin, knowing without looking at him that Grissom was doing the same.

"Yeah, I've got great friends, don't I?" Henry rolled his eyes.

"Oh, it's not so bad," Catherine told him. "At least you'll remember what happened tonight."

"Yeah, great. I'll just love remembering all the fun everyone else had."

"No hangover, there's the bright spot," Grissom tried.

"Yo!" Archie bounded up, tripping and stumbling only a tiny bit. "Henry, man, you gotta hook me up with some more of that blue party juice. That stuff is awesome!"

"See what I mean? This is so fun…" Henry blandly said to Grissom and Catherine as he found the liquor Archie had requested. He poured Archie another glass, who then left as quickly as he'd arrived.

"While you've got the--what'd he call it, 'blue party juice?'--out, you might as well pour us some," Catherine grinned.

"Yes, boss," Henry replied with a deep sigh.

"Next party, I'll make sure you're the drunkest one there," she promised, taking the blue liquor-filled glass from him.

"I'll hold you to that," Henry said, passing Grissom a glass of the blue liquor, as well.

"Well, we'd better let you get back to work," Catherine smirked as she took a sip of the drink. "Archie was right. This stuff is good. You know, Gil, I don't think catching up will be a problem at all!"

**VVVVV**

**Thanks for reading!**


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